Chapter 9
Niran
After getting us to the emergency room, Rico went back home to be with Anurak, leaving me at the hospital with Bento.
But I was pretty sure he knew I wasn’t leaving my man’s side—not without Bento coming back home with me.
Rico hadn’t asked questions, but they’d been lingering in his gaze.
He respected my privacy though, and he knew if I wanted him aware of what was happening between me and Bento, I’d make it known.
And eventually, I would. But not until I had Bento right where I wanted him, which was at my side and so dependent on me, he couldn’t damn breathe without something reminding him of me.
I was so fucking obsessed with him, I wanted my name around his throat so every asshole in the world knew he was owned.
I wasn’t a good man. I would never pretend to be. And for Bento, I was completely fucking unhinged.
I lifted my chin when the double doors that led to the triage rooms opened.
Bento had been in surgery for damn near two hours now while the surgeon on staff tried to dig the bullet out of Bento’s shoulder and staunch the bleeding from his artery.
I’d been told it was a fucking miracle I even got him here alive.
Maybe Bento had known, even while unconscious, I’d find him in the afterlife and make him pay for abandoning me. Even while I’d been cold and aloof toward him, I’d always made it clear his death was never a fucking option.
I knew I’d alienated him more often than not while trying to hide how I felt for him, but that didn’t matter to me. I was a narcissist of the worst kind, and I didn’t give a fuck if Bento was confused about what was happening. I’d soon enough set the record straight.
“Bento Perez?” the nurse that’d stepped through the door called. Quickly, I stood to my feet and made my way to her. I was sure her smile was meant to be comforting, but I didn’t want comfort. I wanted to know if my man was fucking okay. If he was alive back there.
“Bento made it out of surgery just fine,” she assured me. “His surgeon would like to speak to you, if you don’t mind, and then, we’ll let you into his recovery room. He’s groggy, but he’s asking for you.”
He’s asking for you.
Fuck.
I wasn’t sure what to do with how that single statement made me feel.
When I nodded, the nurse led me through the double doors and into a small, windowless room with wooden chairs upholstered with sage green cushions.
I took a seat and leaned back, getting comfortable since I knew doctors usually took their time getting to the family of patients.
I knew they had a lot going on, but it was still annoying when all I wanted to do was get to Bento’s room so I could protect him.
And then, I needed to call Alfonzo and find out what’d happened to the two men I’d ordered to be kept alive.
A few minutes after the nurse had left the room, a light knock sounded on the closed door, then the surgeon pushed the door open. Standing to my feet, I offered him my hand, which he shook before taking a seat across from where I’d been sitting. Once I was sitting again, he dove right in.
“Bento was lucky to make it here alive,” he told me, though I already knew that from the treating emergency room doctor.
“I repaired his subclavian artery and removed the bullet from his shoulder. He’ll need physical therapy, and for the time being, I want his arm in a sling to limit movement until that wound closes and heals completely.
And I’m going to suggest he’s out of work for at least three months.
His doctor and physical therapist can re-evaluate his condition then. ”
“Work won’t be a problem,” I assured him.
Bento would have to suck it up and not train for a while, but I’d let him hit the treadmill and stair master if he wanted.
Anything more strenuous than that would be a no-go.
He might hate me for it, but he’d live. He was my man, and even if he wasn’t, I was his boss. What I said went.
“His doctor will provide paperwork, along with follow-up appointment paperwork. We’ll be keeping him for the night for a couple more transfusions. He lost a lot of blood. But he should be good to go home sometime tomorrow morning.”
“How much blood did he lose?” I asked.
“His hemoglobin levels were at a 5.8,” he told me.
My fingers curled into fists before I forced them to relax once more.
“The blood loss was extreme.” My jaw tightened as I nodded my head.
He stood to his feet, so I did as well. “Do you have any questions for me?” When I shook my head, he held his hand out, and we shook hands once more. “I’ll lead you to his room then.”
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I shot a quick text off to Rico to let him know of Bento’s condition.
Niran
He made it out of surgery. Lost a lot of blood so he’s staying overnight for transfusions. He’s out of commission for a minimum of three months. Could be longer if physical therapy doesn’t go well. Had to repair his subclavian artery.
Rico
Who do you recommend as a guard for Anurak while he’s down?
Niran
I’ll gather a list, and you and Alfonzo can come to that decision yourselves. I’ll have it to you later tonight.
Rico
10-4.
I slid my phone into my pocket as the surgeon pushed open the door to triage room thirteen.
When I walked inside, Bento was asleep, his lips softly parted.
Multiple cords and tubes were attached to him, and he was pale beneath his brown skin.
I decidedly hated how weak he looked in that bed.
He was always strong and steady. A pillar of strength.
Those mother fuckers would pay for this.
“Let us know if you need anything,” the surgeon said before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
I moved closer to Bento’s bed and ran my hand over his dark hair. His eyes slowly peeled open to slits, and he licked his lips. “Niran?” he croaked.
“I’m here,” I murmured. “Go back to sleep, Bento.”
Slowly, he nodded, like it took great effort for him to do so, and then, he promptly fell back asleep. I tucked the blankets up beneath his chin, then pulled my phone from my pocket to call Alfonzo. He answered on the third ring. Fucker always took his time to answer phone calls.
“I hear he’s alive,” Alfonzo drawled.
“He is,” I confirmed. “The two men responsible—where are they?”
“Tied up and awaiting slaughter like the fucking pigs they are,” he told me. “Rico has given the order to let them sit and rot until you’re ready to deal with them.”
So, Rico was leaving this in my hands. Good to know. The man wasn’t stupid. He’d seen how I’d been about Bento the moment we discovered he was missing. Nothing slipped past Rico. It was one of the reasons the man was so powerful and deadly. And why he was both feared and highly respected.
“Once I’ve got Bento out of here and he’s settled at home, we’ll begin questioning,” I told Alfonzo. “So be prepared. I want you in the room with me.”
He scoffed. “As if I’d miss that opportunity. Take care of your man, Niran. I’ll hold down everything here. Rico is trying to coordinate time off for you.”
I sighed, glancing over at Bento, who was still sleeping peacefully, the drugs no doubt keeping him out of it. “Nothing slips by him, does it?”
“Nope,” Alfonzo said, popping the P. And then, he was gone, hanging up on me without another word.